Escape Ch.4 free porn video

Escape Ch.4 Thanks for all the kind comments and constructive criticisms on the series so far. This chapter will be darker than the previous ones. However, I do hope to receive your feedbacks, suggestions or even which direction would you like the story to go. I hope you like this chapter as well. WARNING: This story contains TG, masturbations, incest and a brief narration of rape. His Love Scott Pearson was a confident man. His self-assuring demeanor arises from his upbringing and the family wealth provided even before he was born. Unlike many of those with a silver spoon, Scott had determined to learn from his father to become a flourishing administrator and business negotiator for his old man's airline company. As the youngest among the three children in the family, Scott had grown up watching his older siblings' failure to make the grade in the thriving company. He had stepped up with believes that he could achieve what his brother and sister had failed - to win the trust of his old man. He had accomplished that at the young age of 33 when his father and founder of the commercial airline handed over the business to his trustworthy son before his passing. He loved the old man. He prayed for his peaceful soul. But he loved the opportunity given to him even more. The money making airline was his dream and he had attained it so much sooner than expected. A year later, Scott Pearson thought he had everything. Power, status, resources and especially women were always within reach. Those perceptions were challenged when he met Claire Hansen. She had been working for 4 years in his airline before being found out by the young CEO. At the time, Claire was not keen on staying committed to a relationship. Scott was confident; as he always was that he was the only man for the gorgeous brunette. Gradually, he managed to win the heart of his love and they had decided to get married 6 months after their first date. Scott was head over heels for Claire. The fruit of their happiness, Emily was born nine months later. Until today, even with the frequent travelling, he was still very much in love with his wife. He did have a fling or two when the urges called, but there was only truly one woman in his life - Claire Pearson. At 47, the CEO of United Global Airline was still a handsome man. His confidence elevated his good looks even higher. He had short and well kempt light brown hair without any hint of age related hair loss. His sharp sapphire blue eyes were hardly ever hidden behind glasses as he had always preferred contact lenses especially in public. Even without Claire's insistent, the family man had always liked to work out and kept himself in good shape. Whenever he travelled, the first thing he would look for was the hotel's gym facility. As a result, his 6ft tall figure was a tad more muscular than his neighbor and family friend Oliver Wilson. Scott loved Emily as much as he adored his wife. But it was a different kind of love; a parental love. The girl was a blessing to their marriage and had grown up ever so gracefully. She was the crowning jewel to the blissful life they had been living. Watching Emily grow up to a beautiful 13 year old girl was a joy. The mother had passed down her grace to the daughter. From her deep blue eyes and the cute button nose to her small slender figure, Emily was only 7 inches short of her mom's 5foot 3. At times, she had even been compared to the young Emma Stone. The only thing that resembled her father was her brown hair. Despite those lovely features, Emily insisted on wearing a brace to fix the slightest of underbite. Just like mom, the girl was profoundly self- conscious about her looks and the clothes that she wore. That was the reason why she had been pleading to let her follow Claire on her annual European shopping trip. Even as a kid, she had dreamt about the Milan fashion show, the Paris boutiques and London's fashionable Oxford Street. When Claire finally agreed to allow the company of the daughter, Emily was absolutely ecstatic. This had been the second trip for the mother and daughter. They had returned from London 2 days earlier. Scott was eager to meet them after touching down from his 3 weeks business conference in Tokyo. The same chauffeur-driven Mercedes Benz which had brought Claire and Emily home from the Houston airport 2 days ago was cruising comfortably into the upscale suburb Dallas neighborhood. Its passenger check the time on his watch and it was only 5 minutes to seven. The sun had just emerged from behind the scenic hills on the eastern side. Scott could hear the birds singing from the trees in his garden as he got out from the vehicle to the fresh morning air. His chauffeur, Benson, had carried his luggage into the palatial mansion. Scott did some stretching to release the stresses on his muscles from the long ride before stepping into the house. The housekeeper was there to help him with his coat and the briefcase. A few minutes later, Scott was on the second floor standing in front of the ornately crafted door to the master bedroom. The door was locked when he tried to open it. Due to the jet lag since their arrival from London a couple of days ago, Scott thought that his wife had it locked to prevent any disturbance to her rest. It's a good thing he had carried extra keys for the house even though they were rarely required with the housekeepers around. Finding the key for the master bedroom from the bundle, Scott quietly open the door; not wanting to wake the sleeping beauty. The room itself was opulent. Like the rest of the mansion, the room was of contemporary design while being luxuriously decorated. The furniture were classy yet modern-looking. It had ostentatious full length windows from the high ceiling to the carpeted floor filling almost all of the eastern and southern sides of the room. All of the windows were covered with light impenetrable drapes. On the western side stood a two-panel sliding doors opening up to a spacious two storey high walk-in wardrobe. The wardrobe was connected to a sumptuous bath via a glass door. In the center of the room was a lavish bed where Claire was seen sleeping with the covers up to her waist. Her chest rose with each breath. She looked beautiful even in her sleep as usual in a black satin night gown. But what was unusual was the state of the master bedroom itself. It was a mess. He could see dresses, skirts, and especially lingerie lying all over the place. Claire had always fond of sexy lingerie as much as Scott loved watching her in them. But she had always been a tidy and neat person. She was very conscious about her expensive wardrobe and insisted on keeping it off limit even to her daughter. Claire had always been meticulous about keeping it well organized herself. However, Scott was surprised to find bras hanging halfway over the partially opened dresser, her lacy purple thong dangling from the bedside lamp, three more articles of silk panties by her side on the bed, the designer black dress that she wore for their anniversary last month was laying on the floor together with few other skirts and lingerie. Some of the panties were stained and seemed to have been recently worn. Scott was a little upset but shrugged it off as being due to the fatigue; both for him and Claire. Maybe she was just trying on some new dresses she bought but was too tired to reorganize them into the wardrobe. With that thought, Scott stripped down and jumped into the bath before joining his wife in the bed. Claire stirred and was startled initially by the presence of her husband. "Good morning honey," Scott greeted with a tired voice. There seemed to be a pregnant pause before Claire managed to reply, "Oh, hi sweetie... I... I forgot about you coming home today..." "It's the jet lag, I hope," Scott said. "Y-Yeah... Of course it's the jet lag, silly... I miss you." "I miss you too, honey." Scott whispered into her ears as he cuddled behind the wife and fell asleep. Claire was facing away from her husband as she listened to his snoring. It was only two days ago when her car had passed by a mysterious black sedan stationed on the opposite side of the road near her neighbor's residence. Claire remembered feeling uneasy. ***** After she had safely reached her own residence, she had felt the need to talk to Katherine about a newly surfaced problem regarding their fundraiser. An important celebrity guest and performer for the gala had canceled her appearance with only two weeks left. She had just found out from the performer's manager when she had touched down at the airport. Efforts made to contact Katherine were unsuccessful. For some reason, the mobile and land line wasn't working. Claire was desperate to discuss the matter with her president. After her bath, she changed into a sleeveless skin-tight tight tee and a pair of low cut jeans before paying her friend a visit. The little walkway which connected the extensive compounds of both residences was separated by a small 5ft gate. The two families had gotten accustomed to the walkway especially during weekend barbecues and birthday parties; so, Claire was quite familiar with the route even under limited lighting. It only took her ten minutes to arrive at the doorstep of the Wilsons chateau. She had noticed a white Prius parked by the side and assumed that Katherine must be having guest at that moment. Claire had thought about coming back the next morning until she recalled that one of the committee member was also driving a white Prius. Had Katherine known about the problem and had already called for an emergency committee meeting? Maybe she had failed to reach Claire as well. There was an obvious respite in Claire as she walked back to the main door and pressed on its doorbell. She could hear its sounds echoed melodiously inside. She waited for any of the maids to come to the door but there was no one. She tried the doorbell for a second time hoping to get some response but still there were no signs of anyone coming to greet her. Then, Claire noticed there were lights coming from the western side of the huge building. It was the direction to the Wilsons swimming pool and the courtyard. It was also the usual location for any of the committee meetings. Having known the place so well, Claire casually strolled to the side of the building towards the swimming pool area. As she got closer to the patio, she could hear some conversations. Walking by the pool chairs, Claire could see four people sitting around the table on the elevated courtyard. She could recognize three of them which were members of the Wilson family. Oliver, Katherine and Olivia were sitting with some lovely lady that she had never met before. It wasn't the meeting that she had hoped it would be, but at least she could relay the important message to Katherine. "Hi, guys... I don't mean to interrupt," Claire said. "Oh, hi Claire! No, not at all. Come and join us," Katherine said as they exchanged kisses and hugs. "This is Sarah Patterson. A friend from way back before we moved to Dallas," Katherine introduced the pretty blonde lady to Claire as they shook hands. "So, what's up Claire? If I'm not mistaken you've just touched down from your London trip, am I right? How was it?" "It was splendid. The shopping was good. Emily did get quite a few items herself. Here, I brought you something," Claire said before passing a bottle of Cote de Nuits to Katherine. "Aww... Thanks... Anyway, you must be tired. You wanna have a seat?" "No thanks. Unfortunately, I was actually here to bring you some bad news. Adele's manager had just called. She's cancelling her appearance for the gala," Claire said. "Well, that's just too bad. I guess we're gonna have to look elsewhere. I'm going to call for an emergency meeting next thing in the morning. Thanks for bringing this all the way to me. You could have just called," Katherine said. "I actually did try to call but somehow the cellular and the house line wasn't working." The statement seemed to cause Ms. Patterson's airway some irritation as she tried to clear her throat. "Ok, then. I guessed I better get moving. See you tomorrow," Claire said as the two housewives gave each other more hugs. "Have a good night." Katherine said. The quartet sitting around the table was relieved to see the unexpected guest leaving the patio. However, the relief turned into terror in a short instant. Instead of walking back through the pool area where she had come from, Claire was casually strolling into the house through the opened sliding glass door as she usually would when she was visiting the Wilsons. She was trying to go through the front door. In a matter of seconds Claire was behind the sliding door. She was petrified to find that she wasn't alone. A big and naked Hispanic man was standing there with a half-naked black guy over the body of an unconscious Caucasian male. The black guy seemed as frightened as she did but the naked Hispanic man showed no expression. Just when she was about to turned around and screamed, Claire ran into Oliver with Katherine and Olivia standing behind - totally blocking off the patio door way. She realized something was amiss when she saw the smug on their faces. Katherine had an uncharacteristic fiendish grin on hers. "I'm sorry, Claire. I guess you've just stepped into the wrong spot at the wrong time," Oliver said. "Wh-What's going on here? Oliver? Katherine? Who are these guys? What are they doing here?" Claire was trying to make sense of things. Katherine didn't seem interested to give her any answers as she and Olivia stepped aside for Ms. Patterson to emerge from the back. This time, she was holding a peculiar looking rifle in her hands. Huge chambers were attached to the top and bottom of its barrel - all of them with muzzles. All of them were pointing at the horrified Claire. When Ms. Patterson pulled the trigger of the odd rifle, there was humming sounds before beams of lights cut through the air and hitting the epigastrium of Mrs. Pearson. The rest of them, except Frederick Jones, just stood and watched as the lovely brunette was turned into another piece of live-skin. Gases evaporated from the eyes, mouth, nostrils and the other bodily orifice. Claire's head sunk in while her face became deformed; so was the rest of her slender body. Her sleeveless tee and jeans collapsed as the foundations beneath gave way. A couple of minutes later, Claire Pearson were just a bundle of skins and clothes crumpled on the floor. "Well, that certainly wasn't part of the plan," Professor Eugene Phillips said under the guise of the beautiful blonde who had just fired the AER gun and turned Mrs. Pearson permanently into a costume. "This wouldn't had happened if ya didn't fucking mess with the area's phone lines and signals with ya little gadget," the former Rocky said in Katherine's guise. "I had to intercept the communications within the proximity just in case agent Jones would want to contact agent Kingston regarding my... or should I say, Ms. Patterson's presence here. I couldn't risk it," The fake Sarah Patterson explained. "She has got a point. It would have exposed our position as well if Jones managed to reach the CIA agent," Dr. Kenny Smith said in the guise of Oliver Wilson. "So what do we do now, pretti layday?" Chico Alves' slang sounded weird in Olivia's sultry voice. "My initial intention was to demonstrate the ability of my AER gun to you with the body of agent Jones. But since this Mrs. Pearson had unwillingly volunteered as the test subject, I have proven to you the similar functionality of it. Now all that is left is for one of you to don Mrs. Pearson to make sure that the live-skins produced were no different from the one generated by the version of AER in your possession," explained the phony Ms. Patterson. The African American fugitive Samuel Johnson was the first to submit himself for the task. He had been waiting for this moment to step out of Kevin Wilson's monotonous character. The other former inmates especially those in female disguise didn't seem willing to trade their roles. The sex with the gorgeous mother and sisters were amazing but he had always yearned to try out one of the female skins. His fetish for women's innerwear would be wholly fulfilled. Even when he was Kevin, he would wear Katherine, Olivia and Rachel's panties under his Kevin clothes. Johnson couldn't wait to feel what it's like to wear another woman's lingerie all day without any inhibition. The black fugitive eagerly stripped down his under-sized Kevin pants. He didn't mind being observed as he picked up and separated Mrs. Pearson's live-skin from her clothes. Johnson's heart was pounding when he had to take off the former 39 year old brunette's white lacy panties off her two rubbery legs. With both hands, he brought the silky underwear to his nose - enjoying the intimate scent of the woman he was about to become. He could still feel the warmth from the recently worn thong along with some moisture from its crotch. By now, his excitement was obvious by the look of his 6 inch throbbing erection. "Good for ya, Sammy. Ya finally got yar wish!" the make believe Olivia teased. Samuel didn't seem to bother as he lifted up the live-skin in full view after freeing it from the clothing. Similar to the live-skin of Kevin, there was a stretchable 6 inch slit at the back of its neck. There was the exact same pink gooey material on the inside - making it easy for Samuel to slide his right chubby leg in through the slit. The upper body of the skins was puckered so that the right leg would find its way past the groin and into the rubbery right leg of Mrs. Pearson. Just as he was about to slid his left leg into the same slit, the right limb was beginning to mold into shape. The tingling sensation was felt as the wrinkles smoothen out and shrunk into Claire's slender right leg. The metamorphosis spread to the left lower limb as Samuel proceeded to tug his raging hard-on into the groin of the skin. The initial bump flattened out miraculously and Mrs. Pearson's vagina appeared - soaking wet. Samuel's dark skin above the waist was a total contrast to Claire's snowy white complexion. The black fugitive was determined to hide the difference as he pull the remaining live-skin over his shoulder and slid first his right hand and then his left into Mrs. Pearson's. His fleshy hands merged with the skins and transformed into a pair of thin and delicate female hands. The chest expanded into a set of perky size C breasts. Lastly, Samuel yanked the brunette's head over his bald one. The shiny medium length black hair was swung to the back. He had experienced flashback of Kevin's young life when he donned the teenager. This time, there was no different as he could see Claire's life summarized before him. A few minutes had passed before the former black rapist lifted the lids of the lovely white chick. The sense of imbalance quickly subsided as he adjusted to his new slender figure. "Wow," was his first word as the new Mrs. Pearson. Samuel liked his new voice which sounded exactly like the one he had heard speaking with 'Katherine' when he and Torres was hiding behind the sliding door earlier. He was so engrossed with his transformation that he didn't pay any attention to what had been going on around him. The pretty scientist, Ms. Patterson was sitting on a dinette chair with her blue jacket on the floor and her blouse ripped open. Her black lacy bra had been tucked down as Oliver Wilson was sucking on her exposed boobs. 'Katherine' was kneeling in between Ms. Patterson's parted legs. The restrictive navy blue skirt was hiked up around her waist and her black lacy thong hung around her ankle as Ms. Patterson received the most pleasurable of oral treatment from the blonde housewife. Olivia too had her white mini skirt raised as she was being fucked by Torres on the counter top. "Hi, guys... I don't mean to interrupt..." the new Claire said - mimicking her dialogue earlier when she first arrived via the pool vicinity. "Oh, hi Claire! No... not at all. Come and join us," Katherine turned around from Ms. Patterson's pussy and said. This time, they exchanged a lot more than kisses and hugs. ***** 'Claire' smiled to the orgy sex that followed on the night when he had 'replaced' the real Claire Pearson. She felt 'her' husband stirred in his sleep from the cuddling position behind her. The phony wife quietly lifted her husband's arm from her shoulder and placed it on his side as she got up from the bed. She gave another look at the sleeping husband before sauntering to the attached bathroom, stepping over a few articles of expensive dresses and bras along the way. The room, especially 'her' wardrobe was in a state of disarray since 'her' return from the neighbor's place 2 nights ago. Claire lifted her night gown and lowered her red lacy thong as she sat down on the toilet to empty her bladder. 'She' remembered the excitement and thrill on that first night she had stepped into the master bedroom. The Lingerie Fetish It was almost like a little kid in a candy store full of the most delicious and sweetest candies. And all of them belonged to him. The size of the wardrobe was way beyond anything he had ever fantasized. From the live-skin's memory, he knew that the real Mrs. Pearson was a fashion shopaholic. The collection of elegant dresses and trendy clothes was a testament to her exquisite and sensual taste. 'She' remembered how 'she' had brushed her new dainty fingers across them. There were at least four rows of dresses; two of them on the first floor while another two on the second floor of the Gucci-inspired walk-in wardrobe. Another two row of skirts and bottoms only section occupied the lower floor while two racks of feminine blouses stood on the upper level. A custom build carpet-laden staircase rose from the middle of the towering closet to the L-shaped gallery on the second floor. An impressive collection of heels, boots and shoes occupied an 8 feet stretch on the floor. There were all arranged in a slanted position with illumination from LED lights hidden under another rack of similarly arranged ladies foot wear above. The 6 feet tall shoe section had 10 rows from bottom up. All of them were Mrs. Pearson's. In fact, she had the whole of the western and southern sides to herself while 3 quarter of the northern side belonged to the husband. The remaining quarter near the closet entrance was all mirrors except for the bathroom entrance. Like the bedroom windows, the full length mirrors extended from the bottom of floor all the way up to the ceiling at the top. The former Samuel Johnson's heart raced when 'she' saw what 'she' was looking for. Under the brightly lit chandelier in the middle of the outrageous wardrobe was a 6 foot long dresser. It was home to Claire's sexy inner wears. The unusually large dresser had four unusually long drawers which had a pair of diamond laden handles on each. The fake Claire effortlessly opened the first one at the top and 'her' heart almost stopped. An audible gasp escaped from her mouth as she took in the view of Claire Pearson's neatly arranged panty drawer. Organizers divided the underwears according to its types, material and even colors. There were the lacy silks, satin and the innocent cottons of the thongs, bikinis and the g-strings variety - all of them folded nicely among those dividers. 'Claire' eagerly pick out a piece of a flimsy red thong and felt its smoothness before putting it to 'her' new button nose. She quickly took off her skin tight low cut jeans with the white lacy thong she had so eagerly put on 15 minutes ago at the Wilsons and pulled on the sexy red one. With all the escalating excitement, 'Claire' almost came from the sensation of the silky material sliding up her long feminine legs. The former 36 year old man then proceeded to exploring the second drawer. It revealed a variety of equally well organized array of bras. 'Claire' eagerly stripped off her sleeveless tee and the white bra before pulling on a pair of lacy black with red patterns bras. The smooth fabric held her ample breast nicely. She posed her alluring figure in front of the gigantic closet mirror and found her new appearance extremely arousing. Claire's delicate hands were cupping at the bra-cladded breasts and panty-covered pussy after a few posing. Her slender legs were beginning to feel weak from all the erotic sensations. She had to make herself comfortable sitting on the wardrobe Ottoman with her legs wide apart while leaning against the dresser in front of her reflection. She was being entertained by the view of the sexy Mrs. Pearson masturbating in her lingerie. The crotch of her red lacy thong was soaking wet as she continued to increase the intensity of her rubbing. It wasn't long before her perfectly manicured fingers moved underneath the waist band and came in direct contact with her sensitive clitoris. Her dainty middle finger and fourth finger eventually slid into the slippery wet vagina as her thumb and index finger continued to stimulate the clit. 'She' could feel her wedding ring brushing against her flesh. The red flowery patterns hand-stiched onto the expensive black bra hid her other hand as its fingers were pinching the nipple and fondling the perfectly shaped breast. The electric-like sensations were zapping through her body. She wasn't looking at her own reflection anymore as her lids descended to all the overwhelming pre-climatic sensations. Each and every muscles in her body started spasming as the phony housewife experienced her second orgasm that night; the first of which came during the 'welcome-to-womenhood' orgy at her neighbor's ch?teau. Claire was supposed to be exhausted considering her arrival from a 10 hours flight not too long ago. While the two orgasm thus far did take a little out of her, the former paunchy banker couldn't curb 'her' enthusiasm in exploring further her new skinny body and her new extravagant wardrobe. The next thing she did was to shed the 'dirtied' lingerie on her body and dived back into the dresser for more. With a pair of pink g-string on, she explored the content of the third drawer which housed the chemises, teddies, baby-dolls, sexy camisoles and really hot night gowns. There were more of the same in the fourth and final drawer except for the addition of pantyhoses, stockings, leggings, spandex and workout tights. She had to rolled on a pair of black thigh highs before putting on a pink satin camisole. Like a little girl in Barbie-land, she skipped to the shoes section to pick out a pair of white 4 inch heels and slid her small feet into them. Her hips swayed as her new memory taught her how to walk seductively in those high heels. 'She' stood in front of her reflection to admire an image the ex-Samuel could only see on porn websites and magazines. He could not have imagine that he would one day be the model himself. With that in mind, the new Claire sauntered out of the wardrobe and flopped on to her plush bed as she felt the materials of the satin and silk brushed against her flawless skin. She brought herself to a few more orgasms that night - in a few more combinations of lingerie and dresses before finally passing out around five in the morning. The sleep was peaceful until one of the housekeeper; Sanchez came knocking on the door only three hours later to inform that breakfast was ready. Samuel who lost track of his current identity carelessly instructed the helper to go fuck off till the tone of his feminine voice reminded that he was now Claire Pearson. Sanchez, who still stood behind the closed door was taken aback by Mrs. Pearson unusual outburst. She was about to step away when Mrs. Pearson clarified that she was just having a bad dream and would be down shortly. Claire, who fell asleep in an elegant black evening gown which her memory told her that she had worn during their recent wedding anniversary, had to take it off and left it on the floor as she stepped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Fifteen minutes later, she made her way down to the breakfast table in a white square neck knee-length dress which showed off all the curves of her small figure. Emily was already on the table checking out her friend's Facebook status on her iPad. The breakfast was uneventful and Emily didn't noticed anything out of the ordinary with her 'mom'. After the breakfast, the false Claire went straight back to her room citing that she was unwell and required further rest. Once back in her 'wonderland', Claire resumed the exploration of her wardrobe and her female body. There was one time when she was playfully clipping her garter belts onto the top lace of her black stockings when Emily barged in to find her mother in the inappropriate attire for a summer afternoon. "I-I was just trying out something for..." "It's for dad, isn't it? I kinda get it. I should have knock first anyway. I just wanna ask your permission for me to attend Heather's birthday party on Thursday night." Emily said. "Su-sure, Benson will give you a ride," Claire said. "Cool. By the way mom, you look very pretty in those," the daughter said before retreating and politely shutting the door. After having the maid brought her soup and salads to the room for lunch, Claire spent the rest of the day alternating between playing dress-up, orgasms and falling asleep. She was cautious enough to lock the door just in case 'her' daughter would barge in to see her mom masturbating. The cycle lasted all the way till the next morning when Claire was joined in bed by her husband who had just returned from his business trip. His presence startled her a little initially as she had yet to prepare herself willingly to be touched by another man. Samuel had a fetish for women's lingerie; but actually getting screwed as a beautiful woman was a totally different ball game. ***** While wiping her pussy clean after clearing her bladder, a grin appeared on her lovely face. Looking at her own reflection in the bathroom mirror, she thought about what it would be like to not only have sex in those sensual lingerie; but also the possibilities of dominating another person. Somehow, the idea of having sex as a woman wasn't as repulsive anymore. Rocky, Chico and even Torres seemed to be having fun doing it. 'Claire' gracefully walked out of the bathroom and stared at her sleeping husband. The grin never left her face. The Payback Thirty six hours before 'Claire's' contemplation about experimenting 'her' womanhood with her husband, agent Jones found himself somewhere in the enormous property of the Wilson family. He was struggling to regain consciousness. His eye-lids felt heavy as he attempted to lift them. The morning sun light could be seen creeping into his unknown surrounding. Jones tried to recover his bearings as he observed the room. He was sitting on a chair in some sort of wine storage basement. That was when he realized his hands was being tied up behind him. His ankles was also being bound to the legs of the steel chair. He couldn't move as he found out the stoutness of the ropes and their efficient knots. Jones tried to think. How did he ended up here? The last thing that the federal agent remembered was the stinging pain at the back of his head. The world went black afterwards. He must had been knocked unconscious by some sneaky bastard. Then he recalled the conversations among the fugitives and the revelation that they were actually 'wearing' innocent civilians as disguise. There was no way anyone, especially the judge would believe him if he had told them. However, the unreal scene of the partially disguised fugitives he witnessed prior to his blackout was no bad dream. He was sure of it. The CIA must had outdone themselves again by going to such an extend and came up with the sort of invention for the sake of their espionage ambitions. It was easy to see how the tool would benefit against the bad guys. Extracting information from terrorists and going undercover as one of them would be a walk in the park. The Middle- Eastern, Russian and North Korean network would be exposed. It was definitely a breakthrough in a lot of aspect for the nation; until the unexpected happened. By some sickening twist of fate, the train crash occurred and the tool which turned humans into skins or costumes fell into the hands of some really bad guys. Now the fate of an innocent family and himself were in the hands of these criminals. And these were all ruthless criminals, in particular Rocky and Torres. They would not hesitate to kill in order to survive. Agent Jones knew he had very little time to figure a way out. He tried to re-analyze his surroundings. The faint sun light from the basement windows near the ceiling wasn't making it any easier for him. The empty closet's repetitions of vacant circular holes looked to not have stored any wines for some time. On the other closet further away from him, he could only see a couple of unopened wine occupying two of its holes. The health conscious family wouldn't encourage getting themselves drunk on a daily basis; but they must had appreciated wine's antioxidant effect to have a storage built for them. "Hello?!" All of a sudden, a female voice called out from the shadowed part of the basement. "Is anyone there?" The initial surprise of hearing another voice down there with him was replaced with the feeling of relief. Maybe there was someone who could help him. But first he needed to find the source of that trembling voice. "Yes, I'm Agent Frederick Jones - FBI. Could you identify yourself?" "Oh, thank god! You're a cop?! I'm Oliver Wilson. Please help us here. Me and my family were all being tied up," a male voice said. The male voice was distinctive from the fugitives' whom he had eavesdropped on last night. He could also hear a couple more female voices in the background trying to speak at the same time. All of them sounded desperate for help and rescue which Agent Jones couldn't provide at that moment. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson. Though you can't see me, I can assure you that I'm being held captive as well. My hands and feet were tightly secured to a rather heavy steel chair. Can you remember what happened? How did you end up where you are now?" Agent Jones tried his best to sound calm. Again, the group of voices trying to speak at the same time but in the end, Mrs. Wilson took the lead. "Agent Jones, I'm Katherine. W-We are all very confused... I mean, how we ended up in our home basement when we're supposed to be on holiday in our lakeside cabin far away from here. The last thing me and my daughters remembered was a couple of police officers came into our cabin and one of them pointed some odd weapon at us. And here we are." "Me and my son Kevin were just returning to the cabin from the accident scene at Route 63 when we no-noticed something wr-wrong with the girls. Two men were doing... things, to my wife and daughters. The last thing I saw was some gray haired guy in police uniform pointing some peculiar looking weapon at me. Then all of us awaken to find ourselves being tied up in our own basement." Oliver added. The trembling in his voice was ever so obvious. Agent Jones had the general idea of what had actually happened to them but he was reluctant to burden the poor family with the unpleasant truth. It wouldn't do them any good. Instead, he tried to think. With all the adversities, was there any way to outsmart those evil crooks? "Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, I need you to be calm for me. Can you do that?" "Y-yes, I believe so," Oliver said. "Are your children there with you?" "Yes, all of them are here," the father replied. "Good. Now, can you see any bottle of wine near your location?" "We can't see anything here. It's too dark." "I need a favor from you, Oliver. Can you swing your chair until it tumbles over to the side nearest to one of the wine closet?" "Yes, I think so. What do you want me to do then?" Mr. Wilson queried. "You could try and reach for any wine bottle, if available at the lowest tier of that rack." "Yes, we kept all the empty ones at the bottom for the charity recycle events." Katherine's said. Her voice was hopeful. "You want me to smash the bottle into sharp pieces and use it to cut the ropes?" "Can you do that Mr. Wilson? Though you're gonna have to do it blindly. If I have to guess, your hands are being tied behind your back just like mine, correct?" Jones instructed calmly. "Yes, but I think I can make it." After saying that, Oliver started rocking his chair from side to side. On his third swing, the chair fell over to Mr. Wilson's left. Oliver's wide shoulder hit the cement floor first creating a cushioning effect for the chair. This way, the noise of the tumbling chair was muffled at the expense of a numbing pain to his left arm. Ignoring the discomfort, Oliver tried to slide his way towards one of the wine rack in search of a bottle with the hands tied behind him. The weight of the heavy steel chair made it even more difficult for him to maneuver his naked body. He used his fingers to blindly comb through the lowest rack. Then, he managed to feel the roundness of a cylindrical object which felt like glass. All his life, he had never been so glad to touch a bottle of wine. "I found one!" Oliver almost shouted from his excitement. Sweat was pouring down on his forehead. "Shhhh... We don't wanna get too excited. Let's try and break that damn bottle, but do it as quietly as possible. Can you do that for me, Oliver?" Jones instructed. "Okay," Mr. Wilson said before fumbling the bottle a little. On his second attempt, he tossed the bottle as high as he could. It crashed onto the hard floor, breaking into multiple small pieces of sharp broken glasses. He could feel the sharp edges of the one nearest to his hands and grabbed it. The 45 year old family man managed to maneuver the piece of sharp object so that its edges were grinding at his ropes. He could feel the glass eating into the thick rope. If he could free himself, he could release the rest of his family and the FBI agent. He would guide them out of the basement through a secret passage only he and Katherine knew. The passage would lead to the exit at the pool house. But first, he needed to cut through the rope. His optimism was ever so high until suddenly, Olivia; his eldest daughter started laughing hysterically as if she had played a joke on them. She stood up from her chair, revealing that she was never really being restrained in the first place. The 20 year old daughter walked towards a switch and flipped it to turn on the basement lighting. All of the captives including Agent Jones had to squint to the acute change of brightness in the wine cellar. Once his vision was promptly adjusted, the federal agent could gauge at the situation. All of the other captives were restricted to their chair including Oliver who was on the floor - still bounded to his seat; All of them except Olivia Wilson. She stood at the basement door still sneering uncharacteristically. Like the rest of her family, she was completely naked but didn't seem to be bothered by it. Then, a nasty realization struck Agent Jones: he had totally neglected the possibilities that any of the captives could actually be a fugitive in disguise. "Do ya know, ya people are so pathetic that ya'all are so fun to watch?" Olivia said. She stood in a seductive and ladylike posture which didn't suit the way she spoke. "Livy?! How did you manage...? Come and untie us before the kidnappers notice anything," her father said. "The kidnappers? Oh, they noticed everything, daddy. Ya'all are so dumb that ya didn't fucking notice anything wrong with this Olivia," her finger pointed to herself before unlatching the wooden door behind her. "Come in guys! They're all awake.." Oliver, Katherine, Rachel and Kevin were all in a state of confusion. Was Olivia conspiring with someone else to kidnap the members of her own family? How could she betray her love ones? And what's wrong with her accent? Why was she speaking like a New York gangster? Their fear escalated when they saw three naked men in bath robes entered the room through the door left open by Olivia. These men didn't bother to secure their robes properly baring the front of their body including their private parts. Two of them were heavily covered with tattoos. One of the tattooed guys - the shorter, older and overweight one seemed to be in charge. His semi-hard penis could be seen among the dark pubic hairs under his protruding beer belly. The real Wilsons were dumbfounded by the view of 'their' Olivia leaning over to the fat guy and French kissing him. Her hand seemed so small under the rotund stranger's abdomen as she stroked his dick. They locked tongues for what seemed like an eternity especially to the disgusted father until the plump fellow withdrawed his mouth to look at his captives. The smug on his face was disconcerting. "Mmmm mmm... Your mouth tastes as sweet as always, Livy. I think it's time for us to introduce ourselves to this clueless family. Oh, I assumed ya're still clueless unless Agent Jones over there had done the explainin' though I'm pretty much doubt it. Am I right, Agent Jones?" "Fuck you Rocky! These are innocent people. They've got nothin' to do with any of these. You got grudges against me, you settle them with me and me alone. Let these people go!" Jones shouted at the top of his lungs. "Thanks for da intro Jonesy. As you have heard, I'm Rocky. This big fella behind me is Torres and the handsome gentleman beside him is ma brilliant friend, Dr. Smith. What 'bout this hot little thing rite here?" Rocky wrapped his arm around Olivia's shoulder and pulled her closer towards his sweaty body. "This rite here used to be my gang bang buddy Chico, but rite now Chico's living inside your daughter's skin. He is currently disguised as yar pretty little Livy. How're ya doin in there, Chico ma man?" Rocky said while planting kisses on Olivia's neck. "Do ya have to ask, Boss?! This is da best shit that evah happened to me!" the phony Olivia said. Her hands were cupping her perfect tits. "Where's Samuel Johnson?!" Agent Jones asked when he realized him missing from the pack. "Oh ya don't have to worry about Sammy boy. Ma dawg is having fun playing the role as the new Mrs. Pearson next door as we speak. We're really happy for him." Rocky said. His grin widened. "What in the name of god is happening here?! Livy, what are you doing with these people?" Mr. Wilson snapped out of his bewilderment and demanded answers. He was still all tied up to the chair laying side ways on the floor. The pain on his left shoulder was almost forgotten. "Adrian, why dontcha help poor Mr. Wilson here up from his uncomfortable position." Rocky said. Torres walked like an orc towards Mr. Wilson. The family man could see the towering Hispanic guy's flaccid penis swinging from side to side. Within seconds, Oliver was erected back to his original upright position. The broken glass on his hand behind him was confiscated. His ropes were barely scratched. "Ya obviously still don't get it, Mr. Wilson. We have this tool which can turn any human into mere costume so that we can put them on as disguise. Ya see, we were former death row prison mates facing death until we managed to escape the accident on Route 63. Ya remember that train crash Mr. Wilson? Da one ya were so kind to go lend a hand, leaving yar pretty wife and daughters vulnarable for us to turn into a bunch of live-skins? Do ya remember comin back to the cabin and seein year wifey..." Rocky smiled at the real Katherine - to her utter disgust, "...and daughter havin fun with total strangers? Well, that was me wearing yar wifey's live-skin and ma boy Torres and Chico in yar daughters'." "You sick son of a bitch!" Oliver roared. "Oh sweetie, watch that language. The children are listening..." Rocky said in imitation of how Katherine Wilson would usually speak. "What do you want, Rocky?!" Agent Jones questioned. "Now that ya asked, Jonesy. These little gathering had been specifically set up for ya - for ya viewing pleasure, to be precise. This cute little family was previously turned into costumes with a revivable version of the AER. It means that they are still alive as long as we take them off and sealed them up. That's why yar all here livin and breathin while listenin' to ma babblin. But that AER ain't no longer with us. Da inventah, da pretty young blonde which was actually a seventy year old professah in disguise, suggested on returning it to da intelligence agency so they'd stop chasin. In return, she gave us this," the former mafia leader took over some similarly odd looking rifle from Torres and lifted it up so that all his captives could have a good look at it. "This motha-fuckah-shit will turn all of ya into costumes too... The difference though, is that ya'all will become costumes for good. Dead- fuckin-costumes. No chance of being revived." Rocky said to the horror of the Wilsons and Agent Jones. "The thang is; we need to fully revive ya'all for that to work. Once ya'all wake up and aware of what's happenin, we're gonna zap yar sorry asses and turn them into dead-fuckin-costumes while ar FBI agent just sit there and watch. Just like how he let his partner die, he's gonna let ya'all die in front of him and do no shit. This time though, you ain't puttin us in jail. Ya know why? Cause we're gonna enjoy living the loaded lives as these spoilt cunts. Ain't nobody gonna catch us this time, Jonesy." Rocky said. "I won't be so sure about that if I were you, Rocky. Sooner or later, people are gonna notice me missing. In fact, a CIA agent knew I was here investigating. So, I wouldn't be so cocky, if you know what I mean." Jones said while trying to play his cards. "Oh, we've already knew that thanks to that pretty inventah, Ms. Patterson. Don't worry Jonesy cause we've got that part covered as well... Once we turned you into one of the costumes, we can pretty much do what we want... But that ain't gonna happen until ya witness the show we've set up for ya. Unfortunately though, ya missed out on what had happened to the real Olivia. She was the first of the Wilsons to wake up. So we took poor Livy upstairs and had our way with her before permanently turning the young lady into a costume. Chico here seems really comfy wearing Livy now." Rocky pulled 'Olivia' back to his sticky body. 'She' willingly probe her tongue back into Rocky's mouth as they exchanged considerable amount of saliva. "Uhmmm... I think you're gonna make a better Olivia. We're gonna be having lotsa mother and daughter time later," Rocky complimented the former Chico Alves before turning his attention back to his captives, "Still, we have plenty more to show Agent Jones today. Let's get da party started!" Agent Jones couldn't do anything but shouted and offered his live in exchange for the lives of the remaining Wilsons. It was to no avail as he watched helplessly how the criminals defile the family members. While Rocky, Torres and Dr. Smith was violating Katherine and Rachel, the make believe Olivia performed oral sex to the repugnance of the real Oliver and Kevin. Tears were flowing. Pleadings went unheeded. Feelings of anguish, defeat and hopelessness were coursing through the veins of Agent Jones. The boundings on his wrists and ankles were eating into his flesh as he attempted in vain to free himself so that he could stop these bestial acts transpiring before him. He had never felt so vulnerable. Rocky managed to even brag about his quick recovery after his recent forceful ejaculation into the real Olivia. He was boastful of how turn- on he was when it came to fucking the woman he was about to become. Agent Jones' blood-shot eyes tried to look away while apologizing to the victims but their cries were stabbing into his heart. The brutality lasted for almost an hour which felt like a lifetime to the powerless federal agent. It wasn't long before Agent Jones was shown the capabilities of the ultimate disguise weapon as Rocky used it to fire beams of lights at the violated Wilsons. One after the other, the wealthy family members' life was being taken as they were being converted into nonreversible live-skins. The demonstration proceeded with how seamlessly Rocky slipped in to the freshly made costume of Katherine Wilson. Agent Jones witnessed the unreal transformation of the mafia boss' paunchy body as it morphed with the live-skin and reshaped underneath it into the well-preserved feminine proportion of Katherine Wilson's figure. The tears stain on the cheek of the beautiful housewife was still visible. They seemed so out of place on the smug that appeared on the very same face that had cried and begged for mercy not too long ago. It was the same grin which was on Rocky's face when he had walked through that basement door. "If you ask me, actually having my whole body in her is better than just having my dick in the cunt..., oops, please excuse my languange," the former Rocky said using Katherine's vocal cord. By the time 'she' finished that sentence, the rest of the fugitives had completed their own disguises. Dr. Smith retained his role as Oliver while Torres was quietly glad he was able to be Rachel again. Olivia sat with her slender arm over the back rest and her legs crossed on one of the chairs vacated by the captives whose lives had just been taken over. She could still taste her dad's and little brother's cum on her tongue. "Now, what should we do with you, Agent Jones?" Katherine said as she walked seductively towards the federal agent. "Don't you fucking touch me you son of a bitch! You won't get away with this!" Jones warned but his voice came out weak. Tears were forming in his eyes as he felt sorry for the Wilsons. "What's wrong Agent Jones? I saw you checking me out yesterday when I went for my daily workout. You like my body don't you? I couldn't be fonder of it. That's why I can't stop touching myself each day when my husband wasn't around. I bet you want a piece of this pie too, right?" the phony Katherine said as lowered her naked body onto Jones' crotch. He had been weakened by the efforts to free himself earlier. "Fuck you!" "That's the whole point," Katherine whispered into Jones's ear. 'She' moved her hips rhythmically as she continued to rub her pussy against her captive's lower body. 'Katherine' could feel a positive reaction from the federal agent. His manhood was rising under his pants. Agent Jones's repulsive attitude weakened rapidly. He knew the attractive woman in front of him was actually a 57 year old man - an evil man he had been trying to nail all his life. Somehow, his brain was only detecting a gorgeous and naked lady grinding her hips against his lower body. More astoundingly, his cock was reacting to the pleasant sensation. This was the man he had resented above anyone else and yet he could only see a beautiful Katherine Wilson tempting him with her unbelievably sexy body. Her skin was fair and smooth. Her hands felt delicate and gentle as she stroked them against his unshaven face. How could this woman be Robert Wallansky? The false Katherine's eyes were locked onto the eyes of the fragile looking FBI agent. His strength was dwindling fast. The temptress knew she had him in her grasp as she leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. Her lips felt so good against his rugged skin. 'Katherine' shifted her kisses to his cheeks and finally her luscious lips landed on Agent Jones' gapping mouth. Her tongue was probing in search of his. The federal agent responded by sucking on the Katherine's tongue before duly returning the favor. The passionate kissing progressed into a full-blown made out session. Jones' shirt was literally ripped off as Katherine planted kisses and hickeys from the neck to the muscular body of her man who was still tied up. As she kneeled down on the basement floor between Jones' legs, she noticed someone else joined their party - it was 'Rachel'. She looked down towards her mom who shared a smirk as they tear down their man. Rachel turned her attention to the man on the chair. The former Adrian Torres had never seen Agent Jones in such a defenseless state. The cop's resolve had crumbled. Without any warning, Rachel's dainty right hand swung across the face of Agent Jones giving him a potent slap. Katherine who had just released the agent's cock from his pants burst out laughing at her daughter's action. The slap didn't wake Jones out of his trance as he enjoyed the sensation of his 8 inch cock being stroked by the smooth and gentle hands of Mrs. Wilson. Rachel repeated the slap, this time on the opposite direction before she leaned down toward the gaping mouth of Frederick Jones. The seventeen year old daughter proceeded to do what her mother did by French kissing the cop. Katherine was smiling at the daughter's act before she began to wrap her lips around the head of Jones's impressive cock. The delightful sensations were interrupted by a sudden knife like pain on his nipple. The pain lifted his partially closed eye-lids as he found out the source of the contrasting stimulus. Rachel had left his lips. She was now biting on his right nipple while her hand was sharply pinching and twisting on his left. The combinations of pleasure and pain was unexpectedly appealing to the tough and lean FBI agent. He was now in some sort of a hypnotic state. Each of the nipples was alternated between biting and forceful pinching until they turned bright red. 'Rachel' was motivated by the treatment dished out by the good cop when 'she' was still a crook and she intended on returning the favor. The 'teenage girl' moved away from the beaming red areolas, stood up straight and delivered another slap across the face of her prisoner. This time the whack had more venom to it. By now, Katherine was bobbing her head up and down the agent's cock. Olivia, on the other side of the room was grinning with approval as she looked over the shoulder of her dad. The twenty year old daughter was riding daddy's cock on the steel chair. Olivia was glad that the little sister had made use of all the tricks which she had taught her. Meanwhile, Katherine had Jones's fuck-stick well lubricated as she slowly rose from her kneeling position and straddled over the seated cop. Agent Jones' could only managed a faint, "No, no... please stop..." But his body was reacting differently. His monstrous cock was throbbing and glistening with pre-cum and drool as it slid into the descending vagina of Katherine Wilson. She enjoyed the girth of the penis and the sensation of fullness it provided to her womb. 'Katherine' was bouncing rhythmically on Jones' manhood in no time. Her daughter, Rachel deliberately positioned her young perky breast for the seated agent so that he could suck on it. And suck he did - like a starving man. The former Rocky had learned the craft of sensing an impending ejaculation with 'her' pussy. Recognizing that Agent Jones was very close to his climax, Katherine lifted herself off of his cock - much to his displeasure. "No, no... please don't stop." It was a similarly faint statement but the message was totally different from earlier. He watched as the mother stood and kiss her blonde daughter on the lips. Tongues were showing as they giggle during the brief make out. Rachel turned her attention back to Jones. She gave his face another hefty whack with the back of her little hand before lifting one of her legs over his lap and lowered her cheerleader's pussy on his mature cock. It seemed enormous for her young vagina but eventually the natural lubrication helped ease its way. Rachel was trembling from the heavenly sensation as the impressive cock grinded against the tightness of her inner walls. The high school chick was shouting all kind of obscenities as she began bouncing on Agent Jones's impressive penis. Its head pried open her cervical rim and penetrated deep into her womb. It wasn't long before his hip buckled as he shot loads after loads of cum into Rachel Wilson. Concurrently, the teenage girl too was experiencing her equally mindboggling orgasm. She literally collapsed onto the shoulder of her seated 'lover' as she whispered into his ear; "Did you enjoy my young pussy, officer?" The surveillance team A black van stopped a couple of mile from the entrance to the Wilsons ch?teau. It was early morning and the sun was just emerging from the scenic hills at the end of the residential road. The driver and his passenger had yet to see Agent Jones. They were told specifically to meet him at this location. His empty black rental was found on the hidden small alley beside one of the tall oak tree near the residence's perimeter. They feared he had gone in alone and got himself into some very sticky situation. However, the two surveillance experts had worked with the federal agents for years. They had witnessed his feats of getting out of those situations countless of times. So, they inclined to give Agent Jones more time before resorting to plan B. They had not done a plan B for a while. The last occasion that required them to execute the incisive strategy was 10 years ago when they first cooperated with Jones. That was the only time the agent couldn't get himself out of those uncompromising situations. He walked right into the trap set up by his cunning nemesis Rocky during a mission. The old fox had him outnumbered and captured. The same two surveillance members was waiting for him near one of the mafia's mistress home to install evidence gathering bugs. When they failed to detect the presence of the FBI agent, they knew something was wrong. Plan B was executed. A team of under-the-radar ex-Navy SEALs was deployed. The operation was completed in less than 10 minutes and Frederick Jones was brought out unharmed. Unfortunately, so was Robert Wallansky. The driver of the black van recheck his watch. In another five minutes, if Agent Jones was still MIA, the elite team would be notified. Only a few who were involved in the operation a decade ago still resided in the group. While some of the older ones had dropped out, new members who had recently retired from the military's special branch joined the underground force. Both he and his partner were reluctant to trouble those grumpy old men but they had a bad feeling that the agent might really need them to rescue his ass again. They could only hope it wasn't too late. Back in the Dungeon Agent Jones' ass was propped up high on a table in the wine cellar. His hands were still tied up but this time they were brought to the front where the other end of the thick rope was firmly held by Oliver Wilson. He was enjoying the view of his 'wife' and 'daughters' lining at the back of the now completely naked FBI agent. Jones' legs were wide apart. Each of his ankles was bounded to the legs of the table. 'Katherine' was giggling with her two lovely daughters as she was stroking her 7 inch strap-on which she had found in her closet a few days ago. The gorgeous blonde mother joined in with her daughters in a three way saliva swapping and deep kissing session before turning her 'dick' towards the conveniently positioned ass. "Ya know Jonesy, when we always said 'screw you' to each other over the years, I've never really imagined it would actually end up like this." Katherine said as she placed the head of her 'cock' on the 'doorstep' of Jones's ass. She sticked her tongue out and let a small amount of drool dropped onto the anus. For a brief moment, a line of liquid was formed between Katherine's taste bud and Jones' ass before it snapped. The defeated federal agent could feel a sudden coldness as the spit came in contact with his anal skin. Katherine shifted her gaze towards Oliver before saying; "I hope this would make it a tad more comfortable for ya later, doc." "It better be," Dr. Smith under the guise of Oliver. With the little bit of lubricant, Katherine pushed the head of the strap-on forcefully passed the anal rim and into the ass of the incapacitated agent. The surge of intense pain brought a loud scream from Jones. Oliver tighten his grip on the rope while Rachel produced another stinging slap on the numbing face of Frederick Jones. "Shut the hell up!" Rachel ordered. Olivia was sneering hysterically as she sat on the table beside Jones while holding his ass in place. Rocky in the guise of Katherine Wilson didn't give a damn as she started pounding the full length of the probe in and out of Jones's ass. She gradually increased the pace and the intensity of her pounding to the point where the agent almost passed out. As the anal treatment prolonged, Jones became aware of the hidden pleasure once he got pass the pain. It definitely wasn't as bad as the beginning when the fake dick first penetrated him. In fact, the anal sex was starting to feel good. In the midst of the intense moment, he didn't realize that Rachel had exited the room and returned with her iPhone. She was quickly snapping photos of her 'mom' screwing the back door of the handsome cop. For the next thirty minutes, the mother and daughters took turns with Agent Jones's ass. The payback could never be any sweeter. Plan B? The black van still hadn't budge from its position. The suburbs residents were getting out from their expensive houses - some were on their way to work while some were going about their daily routine of watering the flowers and jogging around the upscale neighborhood. It should seem like a beautiful morning. Everything was normal except for the one house they were suppose to infiltrate and set up surveillance. The massive property showed no signs of anyone coming out or entering for the whole duration they had been there. No housekeepers, no gardeners and no vehicles had been spotted through that towering ten feet tall gate. It was too quiet. He had intended to give his friend, FBI Agent Frederick Jones five minutes; but 15 minutes had flown by. The team of two could have easily entered the premise themselves without being detected but they wouldn't able to do anything if Jones was indeed captured - not with the modest firepower that they possessed. The driver picked up his cell and dialed the number that had been embedded into his memory. He dreaded the day when he had to listen to the ring tone which ended with him stating their confidential code. The tone ended on the fourth cycle. There was only silence on the receiving end which he had expected. "The rabbit is in the hole. I repeat, the rabbit is in the hole. I'll send you the coordinates," the driver hung up without waiting for any reply. He then proceeded with sending an encoded message containing the exact location of the Wilsons residence. Less than a minute later, he received an empty message which was an indication that the elite team was on the move. In another 30 minutes, he would expect to see a chopper floating above the residence with masked personnel descending on ropes on the roof of the chateau. The clock was ticking. Just when he was about to reset the timer on his watch, the unexpected happened. "I'll be damned!" the driver couldn't help it when he saw Agent Frederick Jones walked out through the gates of the Wilsons compound. He could also see a lovely blonde in skin tight tee and workout pants on his tail. Agent Jones turned around and seemed to be having a friendly conversation with the lady. The exchange concluded with them shaking hands as he walked away from the gates while the lady retrieved back into her chateau. Agent Jones spotted the black van while he was walking toward his rented vehicle. He approached the van in the same instant as the driver was replying the empty message with another empty message indicating a false alarm. Before the agent had to knock on the vehicle's heavily tinted window, it rolled down. "What the fuck, Jones! Plan B almost happened!" the driver lost his usually cool stature. "Calm down. I know... I'm sorry. It's my fault. I should have notified you guys i